Savage Stars: Chaos Core Book 3

One

He'd seen enough. Aldo, one of the Consort's Honour Guards, was almost caught vomiting in his quarters after the most recent torture session with Master Kort's favourite prisoner, Boro Lozel. His fellow guards seemed to grow only more desensitized, but the visibly flagging will of Boro mirrored his own.

The captive was out of information, long dry as a source of insight on their quarry. Aspen, the escaped doll and her mate Larken were central to Master Kort's focus, and as he failed to locate them, he took his frustrations out on Boro.

Until three days ago, the thick-bodied, robust man was able to keep calm with the exception of the occasional attempt at lashing out, but then he reached his breaking point. It was the interrogation system Kort was using. He'd stretch Boro out, strap him down and directly interface with his brain, sending experiences into him that were from recorded torture and horrific procedures. Live vivisections, the laying and hatching of alien eggs inside the body, and any other neurally recorded horrors Master Kort could get his hands on.

Three days ago, Boro had a different reaction to seeing the chair. He didn't simply turn and try to strike one of his guards, instead he had a full flight response. He flailed, screamed, chucked a guard aside entirely, clawed, and bit to at least turn away from the machine before he was strapped in again. It was animalistic, primal.

Master Kort laughed. Watching Boro resist six guards at once until he was stunned twice was entertaining for him. Couldn't he see the desperation? The fear? The breaking of a person? A trail of urine was left on the floor from the hall to the torture device after Boro was subdued, and Aldo stood back, watching two lower ranked guards strap him in.

Boro, once strong in mind and body, knew where he was the instant he started recovering from the stun shock. The struggle that followed was so frenzied, the panic so raw that Boro threw up on himself as he fought his restraints. He was down to instinct, everything else had been worn away. One of the arms almost came loose during his desperate struggle, even Master Kort stepped back in response to the ferocity of Boro's fight to be free. If he could have chewed a limb off and limp away, he would have.

After several minutes he tired and started weeping, babbling. Master Kort smiled and left the room. This is good, we'll leave him there until he calms down and then we'll put him in the Tranquil Pool simulation.

That was altogether evil to Aldo. The Tranquil Pool was made to be initiated while the subject was sleeping, so they began to think they were dreaming of drifting in cool water. Starting with small fish, things started to nip at them. As the simulation progressed larger and larger sea creatures came to feast until they were devoured. It was one of Master Kort's favourites. It was one of the few fictions created by an author who was known only as Mirage and the panic it instilled in the two subjects Aldo watched Kort use it on were deeply traumatizing.

Aldo could not have hated Master Kort more than he did thanks to all he'd witnessed. There were other atrocities, but nothing demonstrated the twisted cyborg's capacity for cruelty more than that device and what he did to Boro in it.

Castillan, Aldo said to a guard as he strode into the brig. How are those fungus farms paying off these days?

Oh, man, you missed out on a major investment opportunity, the guard replied, chomping his gum. The yields are amazing, people are starving, they'll pay anything for raw food, no matter how bad it tastes.

So, you're not going to need this gig much longer, I guess, Aldo said.

I'm just along for the trip to the Geist System. I've gotta see what's there before I retire, you know. It's something almost no one will see, ever.

I hear ya, Aldo replied. The Geist System, where some of the most advanced manufacturing in the galaxy used to take place. Now it was one of the most dangerous places you could go. Someone or something had taken control of the defences, which made most military organizations look like a glee club. Master Kort wants another session with this one, he said, nodding towards Boro's cell.

Isn't it late for that? Castillan asked, looking at his wrist. Oh-three-hundred, give or take.

Do you want to talk to him? I'm sure he's interested in your opinion on his late-night urges, Aldo said.

Opening cell Zero Three, Castillan said, punching his code in then joining Aldo at the cell door. Heard this one gets all squirrelly when you take him near the Master's favourite toy now.

Up! Aldo said, kicking the bottom of Boro's bare foot. You're not really sleeping, I can tell.

Fucking eels man, Boro said. Dream always ends on the bloody eels.

C'mon, we're taking you to another site, he clapped the restraints on Boro's wrists, they turned red, indicating that they were secure. Aldo kept the control screen on his inner wrist display for easy access.

I thought we were taking him to… Castillan started to say, chewing his gum like an idiot, his helmet still affixed to the top of his thigh. There was a reason why he was usually stuck behind a control terminal - he wasn't exactly an intellectual juggernaut. He had money, though.

I'm taking him where I was told to take him, Aldo said. He took one of Boro's arms and directed him out of the brig, down the main port side hallway. They all looked the same: royal blue and white walls with self-cleaning grey floors. The light seemed to come from everywhere, lending no sense of direction to the space. Aldo got around it by memorizing the hallways as shapes that fit together a certain way. He knew how to get to the tertiary launch bay extremely well.

Man, Castillan said with a chuckle. You are completely lost. They arrived at the double doors that would take them into a launch bay that had been patrolled, checked and sealed off for the third shift.

Aldo touched the doors, opening them with his security clearance. The pitch-black hangar beyond began to light up.

Whoa, whoa, what are you doing? Castillan asked.

With an alacrity that didn't seem to suit the man and a ferocity that did, Boro stepped back, put his cuffed hands over Castillan's head, wrapped his arms around his head tightly and turned around with a jerk. Castillan made a muffled, anguished sound, his hands reaching out in front of him as he panicked. With a tight grip, Boro bent and twisted the guard's neck until he stopped moving, it was only a few seconds; it was like watching a larger dog take something into its jaws and shake it to death. Boro let the corpse drop and regarded Aldo with a devil's grin, catching his breath. Jailbreak?

Damn right, drag him, Aldo said, deactivating Boro's cuffs then grabbing one of his former comrades' arms and rushing into the hangar. As soon as the prisoner was inside, he locked all but the outer doors. Get in the second ship from the left. The rear hatch is open.

Been planning this awhile? Boro asked.

Three days, Aldo said, pulling his helmet off and deactivating it. Anyone with a high enough security level could see what he was seeing while it was on, not exactly ideal. With a jerk he pulled the control chip for the small, nine man ship out of the collar of his armour and woke the systems up from standby. The rear hatch was already closing. Are you any good at flying? Aldo said.

I can fly this thing, sure, Boro said, joining him in the cockpit.

Can you fly it well? Aldo asked. I'm not a great pilot and we're going to be staying close to the ship for a few seconds while the transit systems make an emergency wormhole. It will take a better pilot than I am.

Shouldn't be too hard. The main hangar doors opened, revealing the warped edge of the side of a wormhole. Never done this before, never flown this ship before, he looked at the controls and the status displays quietly.

Guardsman Aldo Seamark, said a voice through his communicator, filling the cockpit with Supervisor Austin's bored tone. What are you doing? We're still twenty-eight minutes away from emergence and I don't see anything in front of me saying you'll need a combat ship now or when we complete transit.

That's Honour Guard Seamark, to you, Austin. I'm on a secret mission for our commander. You'd best not test me, or you'll have to face him.

Yeah, I think I'm going to see what he says about this. I'm locking you down.

Hang on, Boro said, nodding nervously and taking the controls. The ship lifted off from the deck, nudged the shuttle next to it hard, sending the smaller ship half way across the hangar. Aldo was tossed onto his butt and then clung to a seat before he was thrown against the side of the cockpit. He could hear the corpse behind them flopping around. Oops, forgot the dampers, this would have been a short trip, he pushed three buttons. There we go.

Maybe it would be better if I took over? Aldo asked, scrambling to get into the co-pilot's seat and strap in.

The nose of their shuttle was pointed towards the bow of the carrier, parallel to the wall of the wormhole. The hangar door was beginning to close. No, no, I know what I'm doing. Just going to ease out of the bay so we're parallel to the edge of the wormhole horizon, he said, guiding the ship sideways through the hangar doorway, rotating the ship onto its side for some reason and scraping the side against the lowering door. The dorsal side of the shuttle was facing the hangar, so the door was all Aldo could see as he looked straight up. There we go, like a pilot fish hanging around a shark, he said.

We have an alert here, announced Supervisor Austin. Do you have a prisoner with you? Is Castillan dead? It says here that he's dead!

Just getting the prisoner back to containment, he almost got away, Aldo replied, starting to feel sweat gather under his nose and palms. This was going badly, very badly.

Turn on the shields, Boro said.

What? Aldo started looking at the panel in front of him and saw navigation, blinking red notifications about proximity alerts, but no shield systems.

There, Boro pointed across Aldo's chest. That panel there!

He turned and saw a whole panel dedicated to shields with a friendly green query in the middle of the screen asking; ACTIVATE DEFENCE SHIELD?

He pushed it and heard a hum behind him. The prompt disappeared and was replaced with an image of their ship with a fine line around it and more, much smaller icons.

Navigation? Boro asked. Can you make sure the emergency wormhole generator is working? We can't bloody well stay here.

Right, last chance, Supervisor Austin said. Dock with us or I'm going to have to blast you. As if to support his ultimatum, a large pair of double cannons swivelled in their direction, the white and black painted barrels glinting in the light.

Make sure the wormhole generator's charged! Boro bellowed, fighting with the controls a little, setting off alarms as the shuttle strayed too close to the wall of the wormhole. He hit the accelerator a bit too hard and the ship burst ahead of the carrier. Oh, great, we're in front of their big guns now, he said. Wait, I know a trick, he said mostly to himself. After examining a panel to his left, he pushed a series of buttons and let go of the controls.

Aldo immediately reached over to take them but was abruptly pushed back into his seat. What are you doing?

Auto pilot is watching the bloody carrier and staying in position in front of it, Boro said as he worked on the faster than light navigation panel. If they don't blow us out of this merry existence, then we'll be fine until… there it is! You did charge the wormhole generator. You're either smart or lucky.

A blast made the systems behind Aldo whine and the display to his right, the one for the shields, blink red. I think we're about to lose our aft shields.

They're the cat, we're the mouse, Boro said. But we've got a mouse hole. He took the controls and unlocked them, the nose of their ship wobbled dangerously.

Is this your first time flying a ship? Aldo asked.

Boro spun the ship end over end, coming nose to nose with the massive carrier.

Aldo yelped as his hands flailed, looking for anything solid to grab onto. What are you doing?

That was on purpose! Boro said, easing the ship closer and up over the dorsal side of the carrier. Just need enough clear sky, he said under his breath. Damn, she's a great big, fat ship though, isn't she? Blocks the whole road.

Are you trying to get us pointed away from the carrier?

Going to try to break through the side of the wormhole on a good angle so we don't get spaghettified.

So we don't get what? Aldo asked, seeing that their ship had taken another hit, their bottom shields were red and he heard a loud pop behind him.

It's complicated physics stuff, Boro said, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he rotated the ship carefully, pointing it so they were almost parallel with the carrier again, facing the same direction. Time to go, he said, glancing at the wormhole generator. He leaned over and slapped a button as he increased thrust power. To Aldo's amazement, they entered a small wormhole that split off from the large one. Boro activated the autopilot, locked the controls and sat back. First time flying in a wormhole generated by another ship while it's trying to kill me.

Are you any good at flying outside of wormholes? Aldo asked, wiping sweat from his face.

Boro chuckled. No, not really, no. How do you think I got so good at fixing ships?

Do you smell smoke? Aldo asked.

I do. I hope that guard's suit will fit me, Boro said. I might need the life support.

Two

Spin felt like she was on fire on the outside and freezing cold on the inside. Every breath made her feel like she was taking in burning air. It was the kind of pain you couldn't escape and it felt different in her head compared to her chest, compared to her fingers and toes.

Blind, she flailed, fought and screamed. There was nothing else to do as the pain changed, it felt like she'd been swaddled in magma. Spin; your temperature is equalizing. Soon you'll just feel cold, the pain will be gone.

Is she going to be all right? Mirra asked.

Now that she's conscious, yes. I've given her something for the pain.

I can't see, Spin said, the pain quickly fading to discomfort. She realized that she was rolled into a heated blanket.

Even the pain medication couldn't keep her from feeling cold enough to make her teeth chatter, the warming blanket was feeling less painful though. Her extremities were probably getting closer to a normal temperature. She flexed her fingers and toes, the motion felt good, a little painful, but good. Your vision should return soon. I had to give you something to protect your eyes, remember? The counter agent is working, so it'll be all right in a moment.

Spin clamped her teeth together and nodded through the shaking. Silence followed as whoever was in the medbay was standing around watching her recover. The pain in her head was almost gone, and she recalled being put into necro-stasis clearly. It felt as though only seconds passed since she went under. How long?

Two weeks today, Mirra said, feeling her forehead. It was her caring touch, it had to be.

Oh, that's nice, she chattered, turning her head towards the hand, chuckling at how her words sounded through a trembling jaw. The warm hands came back, caressing her forehead and cheeks. Feels like two minutes.

The feeling of lost time is natural, you'll get used to it, Leland said soothingly. You're recovering well.

Still cold, Spin said, drawing the blankets around herself tighter.

That's a good sign, she's rubbing her legs together and using her hands, Leland said, sounding more like he was talking to himself. Talk to her.

Tell me about the trip, Spin managed to say. Light was starting to make it through whatever was caked onto her eyes, she could feel it sloughing off, a quick spritz of water and the sweep of a sponge made her recoil.

Sorry, you can't cry yet, so I'm giving your eyes a little extra moisture to help you clear the Voosten, the stuff that was protecting your eyes.

Can't cry… yet? Spin asked.

Before you went under, you asked if there was anything I could do about that, remember? I was able to remove the extra duct controllers that kept you from crying. It turns out that it wasn't genetic, your model had implants that redirected tears and forced your ducts to stop producing when they determined that you were crying as an emotional response. I only had to remove them and regenerate the skin they were attached to. Recovery would have been painful and risky if you were alive, but I was able to complete it perfectly while you were in necro-stasis. No recovery time, and no heightened risk of infection. You can cry like anyone now.

T-thank you, she said before clamping her teeth together to stop them from chattering.

Now about the crew, he said. Mirra can fill you in.

We made it to British Alliance territory. We've made contact with the Brighton, one of their big carriers. A fighter scanned us and sent us on to Port Harrison. The Governor made sure all our forms were filled out right, and Sharon sent them in ahead of us.

Sharon? Sun was supposed to do it.

Everyone's looking to Sharon now. A few days after you went under, Sun ordered her to stop at Lacuna Station. It wasn't part of our flight plan, and she wouldn't tell Sharon or anyone else why we would be stopping there, so Sharon shut her out with the crew's support. There was a vote and Sun was removed as first officer until you came back. Mitch took over for a few days, then he and Sharon formed sort of a team. They've been good, taking care of things.

Shouldn't have left Sun in charge at all, Spin said, her teeth no longer chattering. She started to relax, sighing and stretching her legs. A sudden spritz in her eyes surprised her and she laughed. By the time Leland finished sponging around her eyes, she was seeing light and shadows.

Aside from that, Della and Nigel really coupled up. He's been working a regular ten hour shift every day on our shuttle and on ship maintenance, he's been teaching me a lot, but after hours it was mostly those two fooling around. They're having a fight now, though.

What's it about?

She walked in on him using a solo pleasure system he got at Deep Shadow Station and is confused about why he'd want that instead of her. He didn't do a great job explaining himself, so she got pissed.

An involuntary snicker at catching Larken in a similar situation when they were growing up turned into a momentary pang of grief, but she pressed past it. That's too bad. Sometimes people like doing that on their own because they want to fantasize. It probably has nothing to do with her.

That's what I said when I talked to her. She'll be back to teasing him soon, I'm sure. They'll be fine if they don't find someone new first.

The world was starting to come back into focus, she could see clearly enough to recognize Leland's face looking down at her. Hi there, she smiled. The desire to sleep started making her feel relaxed, then there was a burning pain in her chest. Chest hurts. Spin said as she squeezed her eyes shut and began to cringe.

A moment later she opened her eyes in time to see Leland retrieving a resuscitator from her chest. Mirra closed the blankets around her again. What happened?

You passed out and your heart stopped, Leland said. We got it started right away and you're full of Leespine Recovery Meds, so you’re fine now.

Spin could see mostly clearly, and her pain was gone. You warned me about that before I went under, she said.

I don't think we can do this again. Chances are you won't come back next time. Nothing to worry about now though.

Mirra finished putting the resuscitator machine, a thick disc that had medication and a few important systems built in, into a sterilizer on the other side of the room.

How long until we get to Port Harrison? Spin asked.

Mirra wiped a tear from her eye and turned around, doing a good job of faking a casual expression. It must have been a closer call than Leland was telling her. Little less than an hour now. We'll have to fly through the outer solar system the old-fashioned way, then we'll take the shuttle down when we're ready to visit. Sharon said we have to start by going to their refugee office. We're officially free though, anyone chasing us into this territory is breaking interstellar law. Thank you for getting everything together so we could come here.

Thank you for taking care of me. After escaping the second time, I didn't know if I would have friends again. Spin sighed and laid back. Her vision was almost clear and she was starting to feel right again. The blanket was still around her, red and heavy. Okay if I just relax for half an hour here? Once she was cleaned up and dressed, she knew life would resume with a vengeance, throwing a hundred things at her. While Spin wanted to savour every detail, her body just wanted to take a break and be warm, comfortable.

I'd love it if you took a day off so I could monitor you, actually, Leland said, looking at a thin plastic strip covered with genetic information.

I'm not going to lose a day after hanging on to two weeks. That's if this worked at all.

It did, Leland said. Like I said though, you can't do that again. Your whole system was made to fight anything like necro-stasis. Next time it'll win and you'll either fail to go under, suffering while you try to heal, or die permanently.

I'll just have to find a way to outlive my expiry date then, Spin concluded.

Do you want to see people? I know Della is crazy to see you, the rest of the crew too, Mirra said.

I'll rest up here for a little while, then I'll be all theirs when I'm cleaned up and dressed.

Good plan. I'll come back later with your clothes.

The lights dimmed and Spin closed her eyes with a sigh. Once she was out of that medbay bed, she knew she'd have to work fast. There would be no time for relaxing, for taking a break, even little time for sleeping. People would be left behind, and she'd have to earn trust with others quickly.

Life would move at a breakneck pace and Spin would either earn more time for herself by finding a cure or die knowing she tried. Either way, she'd gotten as many friends as she could to a place without slavery, and that was worth something.

Three

Back in her comfortable, containment under-suit; an insulation against the threat of the void beyond the hull of her ship and wearing boots that Mirra bought on Deep Shadow Station that suited her better, Spin was starting to feel normal again. The ship still didn't feel familiar. A day after they entered the wormhole that would take them half way to British Alliance territory she entered necro-stasis. There was no time for her to get to know the ship, for it to feel like she owned it at all.

It had dark decks, white and grey panelled corridors and bright lighting like most ships of its type. The interior was dressed up with panels that hid the components that made everything possible, and the decks were foot friendly, not the industrial type so many haulers like the Convoy King had. The sound of the thrusters firing as they decelerated was a constant: a rumble that you could hear and feel but it wasn't so powerful that you had to shout over it. In the front section of the ship you could barely hear it at all.

The rear section crew quarters were simpler, with square corners instead of graceful, rounded edges and, though she knew the thought was vain since the designer couldn't have had any idea how Spin would be feeling that day, she still felt like the aesthetic of the rear section was built to suit her mood. Spin didn't let Mirra or Leland announce that she was up and about. There was something she felt she needed to take care of before she could have any happy reunions.

Nigel emerged from a service hatch that was barely big enough for him to fit through, balls of dust caught in his hair. He stared at her awkwardly for a moment, then closed the gap between them in two long strides and picked her up in a sweep of his arms.

That was one of the things she was afraid of. It was impossible for her to stay focused and clear on her message with crew members like that around. She laughed as he held her close for a moment before dropping her soundly on her feet. You're too tall.

What're you talking about? I'm the perfect height, width, and girth, he replied, flexing his arm. How are you doing, though?

I'm all right, almost back to normal. I don’t think I'll be doing that again, though. The hatch to Sun's self-assigned quarters was less than ten metres behind him, and Spin's gaze kept on drifting to it. How's the ship?

We had some weird calibration problems with one of the secondary rear thrusters for a while, so I had to disable it until I figured it out, but I found the problem a couple days ago. The whole thing was resting on two bolts the length of my arm, they called them spars, but they were really just long bolts as far as I saw. One was bent, so I bent it back, strapped a sensor onto it and put it where it belonged. It'll last until we can get a replacement. I could make one if we had the right metal aboard, but we didn't exactly stock up on raw materials before we left.

Any other problems? Picturing what he meant wasn't a problem. She had a loose grasp of what the issue he ran into was and that was enough for the time being.

I was just checking for air filters between these cabins, just in case. There are brackets for them, but none were installed. The whole system is on a main filter though, so I think it was to keep air flowing better, worth experimenting with, so we might want to get some filters at our next stop if they're not too expensive. No actual problems, though. This King is in great shape.

Good, thank you for keeping it that way, Nigel, she said.

It was easy. He looked over his shoulder at Sun's door, following Spin's glances. I'll check the filter on the end. You know, way up there. His nod indicated that he would be at the far end of the aft section of the ship, next to the connection to the middle. It would be more than far enough so he'd be out of earshot, hopefully.

Thanks, Nigel, Spin said, moving on to Sun's door. Her hesitation was a surprise to her. The knowledge that she was a made thing - designed to specifications determined by artists and scientists she may never meet - was something she'd accepted and sometimes depended on. Those specifications and features were leaked to her years before.

Aspens were made to look soft, approachable and charming. At the same time they were supposed to be able to have a 'stiff upper lip' meaning the capacity to gracefully endure most emotional tests. Outright anger, disappointment, fright, dismay and sadness were not emotions she was supposed to be able to control her reactions to. Her genetic predispositions were matched with her upbringing, and during bad times she believed the control she had over how heavily she let emotions weigh on her was an advantage.

As she stood near Sun's door, that control was barely present. Sun was a woman of the galaxy. She knew things about being a space farer that Spin didn't have time to learn. More importantly than that, she'd grown to love the older, wilful woman, admiring Sun's intelligence and confidence. Spin's rational thinking told her that Sun would be forgiven for costing her years of life by giving her the wrong medication without asking. That was if she had a lifetime to live. That may never be the case.

I can hear you thinking out there, Sun said through the door.

Door cam? Spin asked.

Yeah, Sun said, opening the hatch. She was dressed for travel.

At a glance Spin could see that the thick white long coat Sun was wearing was loaded with all her tools. Beneath she wore her under suit but only the grey collar was visible because she had shimmery blue shirt and black utility trousers with both her thigh holsters strapped on. She was wearing all her best clothing and most important articles. A military rucksack that matched her white long coat was almost full, still open at the top. You're not coming back to the ship once we get to the refugee check-in.

No, I can tell when a crew wants me out the airlock. Hers was a tone of surrender. I'll be fine, the share of White's money you gave me is more than enough to start over. Even if everything costs eight times as much, I'll be fine for a long time. You don't have to tell me to leave. If that's what was making you hesitate, don't worry.

No number of deep breaths or acceptable number of minutes would prepare her to say what she knew was the most reasonable thing. The best thing for her short life. I came to forgive you.

Sun froze, half way through checking a small energy cell. It tumbled from her fingers, bouncing a few times across the neatly made bed. Dark eyes looked up through loose strands of darker hair. You can't mean that.

You're right, I don't. Thanks to you, I won't have enough time to get over what you've done to me, was what Spin's anger wanted to say. Even though she turned away from it, tried to shut it out, it reared its head in how she slapped the door controls, closing it behind her so it was just her and Sun in a small room with a bed, a locker, a chest of drawers and a small hygiene alcove. I have to. The little optimism she held on to brightened what she said next. Right now, before I'm ready I have to forgive you because I'm stuck. I could live for decades if I find a solution to my ticking clock. Then I'll have time to get over what you did, but I can't take that time because I have a much better chance at finding a solution with you than alone. So, I have to forgive you now, to force myself to start trusting you again right now.

No, you don't. That little smile Sun would get when she knew something no one else did, or she was several steps ahead, graced her darkly coloured lips. I'm leaving the ship, but I'm not leaving you, Spin. You gave me the money I need, Nigel and Leland added to the pile, so I can get a small, fast ship and start following a few leads I dug up on my own. Most of them are long shots, and I'll share all of them with you, but I'm getting started as soon as the British Alliance clear me to be in their territory. I'll earn my forgiveness, Spin. That's the way it should be, Sun said, fishing a small data chip out of her pocket. This is everything I have so far.

Spin accepted it and pressed it to the dermal computer on her arm. A collection of files transferred. Sun was really leaving. It was to Spin's benefit, there was no doubt in her mind her former mentor intended to do what she promised, it should have been a relief. What am I going to do without you? I'm not ready to lead a ship, so many people have died already. Larken because I wasn't smart enough to realize he was right behind me, so many of our friends because I wasn't smart or fast enough, Boro… The sight of the first tear falling onto her arm stopped her recount of the dead. I've never felt so small. They kept coming, the parade of tears was on.

Sun's slender hand came to rest on her arm, and Spin leaned in, accepting her embrace. I've never understood how you could believe you're small. I've never met anyone with a better education, who is so smart yet so kind, but you believe you're the smallest of people. If there's one thing you have to learn from me, it's that someone did that to you. Someone made you feel that way long enough so you started to believe it. You need to forget that as fast as you can. Forgive yourself for everything that didn't work out and take the straightest path to getting a cure. Any consequence you can make up for later is worth it, even a few you probably couldn't. A lot of people want to see you live a long time, because you're the most amazing person most of them have ever met, and they love you. I…

Sun, your shuttle just landed in Bay Three, Sharon said. How long do you want me to tell them you'll be.

I'll be there in three minutes, Sun said.

All right, I'll tell them, Sharon said.

Spin wiped her tears away, more came. Her chin was tilted, up, and Sun kissed her, holding her soft lips against hers for a long time before leaning back and smiling. I love you, Spin. I'll do what you're too kind to. I'll save you if I can, so we can be like sisters again.

Sun added a pair of tears to Spin's deluge, which she caught with hooked fingers before leaving the embrace entirely. I… the word came as a desperate creak. I'll see you again, she managed more gracefully.

The flap on top of Sun's rucksack was drawn down, sealing, she put it over her shoulder, and smiled at Spin. You will, Spin. Just remember: you saved us, now it's time to save yourself.

Four

The dimmed lights in the large tactical control room aboard the Lux Royal Fleet ship, Queen's Pride, helped the analyst group Gavin and Skylar belonged to watch their holographic displays for more information. They weren't close enough to the exit point of their wormhole to gather any significant data, but they watched nonetheless, at a loss for words. Begin final stage deceleration, the voice of their